Time After Time
by Serenity's Lady
Summary: A Journey's End and End of Time Fixit - Because both those things should never have happened!


_**If you're lost, you can look and you will find me**_

_**Time after time.**_

_**If you fall, I will catch you. I will be waiting**_

_**Time after time.**_

_~ Cyndi Lauper "Time After Time"_

Something was not right. Definitely not right.

Captain Jack Harkness was sat at the bar on a space station whose name he had forgotten, if he ever knew in the first place. He had been traveling to random locations for a while now, searching for something he couldn't quite place.

There was a rather handsome young man in a navel uniform next to him. He had noticed him straight away when he stepped up to the bar. But even the prospect of a night of glorious, if meaningless, sex in the arms of as sweet a thing as he couldn't distract him from the feeling that had troubled him for a while: that something in Time was terribly, catastrophically wrong.

He stared down into his drink, trying to determine what it was that was so unnerving him. Being Boe-kind, he had always had some level of Time-awareness. He had heard rumours that they were related, however distantly, to the inhabitants of Gallifrey. That would account for his sometimes hypersensitivity to fluctuations in Time. This was further enhanced by his training as a Time Agent, and the long periods he spent aboard the TARDIS, the Doctor's ship.

However, he suspected that the real reason he was so attuned was exposure to the Time Vortex energy. He had been resurrected by Rose, the Bad Wolf, on Satellite 1, using the stolen heart of the TARDIS, and his cells were suffused with it. As a result, he could not die, as his body repeatedly repaired and restored itself.

He picked up his glass and took a large swig. And immediately regretted it. He usually stuck to still water, occasionally opting for fizzy when the mood struck him. But he had been so unsettled by the - to him - violent disruptions in the timestreams, that he reasoned a belt or two of stronger stuff might take the edge off his disquiet. He really should have known better. Setting the glass down, he was interrupted in his musings by the barman handing him a folded piece of paper. Jack looked at him quizzically. "From the man over there," was the explanation.

Jack turned his head and was startled to see a tall, slim man in a very familiar tan duster gazing at him with a small quirky smile. As their eyes met, Jack's Time senses reacted so strongly, so _**wrongly**_, that he could do nothing more than stare. The man nodded once, indicating that Jack should read the note. Opening the paper, he saw the message: _**His name is Alonso.**_ He looked back and the man tilted his head slightly in direction of the young sailor sitting next to him.

Jack looked over at Alonso and back at the Doctor, who gave his old friend a simple one-finger salute. Without conscious thought, Jack returned the salute and watched as the Doctor glided away silently, a sad smile on his face. The queasiness in his gut intensified and he stood up suddenly. Crumpling the paper and shoving into his pocket, he glanced over at the young sailor and whispered, "Maybe another time, Alonso," and made quickly for the door.

Dodging between a Judoon and a Slitheen that was seven sheets to the wind, Jack pushed out into the night air and scanned the street frantically. He caught a hint of movement in his peripheral vision and turned, just in time to see the tail of the Doctor's coat disappear around the corner. Jack pelted down the street, calling the Doctor's name, and veered right. Following the urgings of his internal turmoil almost as much as the fleeting glimpses of pale trainers, he finally caught up with the elusive Time Lord as he slowly approached the blue police box nestled in a dim corner of the alley.

"Doctor, wait!" Jack yelled, frantic to stop him as the alien pulled out a simple key. He put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder to stop his forward motion. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why are you here?" The Doctor turned slowly and gave him that sad smile, but said nothing. Jack persisted. "I want to know what's happened."

The Doctor sighed and gently eased out of Jack's grasp. "It's nothing, Jack. Go on back to Alonso. He's a fine young man." He returned to his task of inserting the key in the lock.

Jack grabbed his arms and turned the Time Lord back to face him. "Screw Alonso!" he shouted, oblivious to the irony. "It isn't nothing. Time is in conflict and I can feel it. What's happened?" he demanded again.

The Doctor's eyes grew cold as he stared at Jack. "Forget it, Jack. It doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't concern me?!" the Captain growled. "Tell that to my insides. I've had a pain in my gut for days now. My parietal lobe feels like fireworks are exploding in it, and my Time senses are so out of whack that couldn't even tell you where we are at the moment, let alone when." He glared at him. "So tossing me a fine piece of tail just isn't going to cut it, _**Doc**_," he snarled. "What the hell have you done?!"

The Doctor sighed heavily. "I really don't have time for this, Jack. Trust me. I'm fine."

"Like hell, you're fine. You look like death warmed up and I can feel the wrongness in my bones. Come on," he said, suddenly reaching over and turning the key. "Inside." He pushed the door open and thrust the unsuspecting Time Lord through the opening. The door closed behind them with a decisive _thump_.

Halfway up the ramp, the Doctor reasserted himself and whirled around to face Jack. With fists clenched at his side, he confronted the Time Agent and said, "You've gone too far this time, Jack. Get off my ship before I do something you'll really regret."

Jack noticed, for the first time, that the Doctor was trembling, that the air around his body was practically crackling with tension. He strode over and held his shoulders firmly, staring deeply into his eyes. He was shocked to see a golden glow behind the brown irises. He dropped his hands abruptly and stepped back, alarmed. "You're regenerating!" he gasped.

The Doctor closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Yeah," he whispered.

"But that's not right!" Jack exclaimed. "_**That's**_ what's been tearing away at the timestreams. This isn't supposed to happen. Not now!" He grabbed the Doctor by the upper arms. "What. Did. You. Do?!"

The Doctor suddenly went limp in Jack's grasp. "Doctor?" Jack cried. "Don't do this to me." He dragged the unresponsive Time Lord to the pilot's chair and draped him over the seat. Holding his face between his hands, Jack pleaded with him. "Doctor, you've got to stop. I don't know what caused this, but everything in me is screaming that it's the wrong time. You can't leave me. You can't leave _us!_"

The Doctor slowly roused, startled to find himself prone and facing a very concerned Jack. Moving into a more upright position, he eased himself away. "Jack," he said quietly. "You have to go. You're right. I'm regenerating, and you can't be here for that."

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. You shouldn't _be_ regenerating. It's all wrong. Not here and not now. That's why Time is in such an uproar. Tell me what happened."

The Doctor sighed and leaned back against the pilot's chair. Deciding it would probably take less time to explain than to argue, he began. "Fine, here's the short version. The Master returned and brought Gallifrey and the Time Lords with him. In saving the bloody planet yet again, I absorbed a massive amount of radiation rescuing a dear but silly old man. So that's it in a nutshell. I'm dying, Jack, and I'd appreciate it if you would go back to the bar and let me get on with it." He stood up and gestured toward the TARDIS' door.

Jack stood also, but remained in his place with his hand on his hips. "Gods, you can be stubborn sometimes," he groused. "Why can't you listen for once?" He walked over and placed his hand lightly on the Doctor's upper arm. "Why are you being like this? You _never_ give up."

The Doctor sighed again. "I'm not giving up. I'm accepting my fate. It has to be this way." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "There was a prophesy."

"What a load of bull!" Jack spat back. "Since when did you believe in fate? And who told you that?"

"The last time I was on the Oodsphere, Ood Sigma told me..."

"Wait. Wait!" Jack interrupted him. "An Ood?" he asked, incredulity dripping from his voice. "You're taking the word of an _**Ood**_?! They walk around with their brains in their hands, for gods' sake! You couldn't get a straight answer out of one of them if you put a gun to its head." He stared at the Doctor, his eyes narrowing. "What did this Ood tell you, exactly?"

"That my song would end soon," he answered softly.

Jack snorted. "Well, _that's_ incredibly vague." He shook his head. "Look, Doc. I don't know why that telepathic freak told you that, but _I'm_ telling you it's not right. This isn't your time to die. So you absorbed some radiation. So what? You've been in worse scrapes before. Hell, you got shot by a Dalek! Just syphon it off and be done with it!"

The Doctor gave him a small, sad smile. "It's not a simple as that."

Jack couldn't believe his eyes and ears. "Dammit, Doc. What's gotten into you? I can't believe Donna would let you get like this."

At the mention of her name, the Doctor visibly flinched, a movement not lost on the observant Time Agent. It was then that Jack realized he couldn't sense the presence of the Doctor's most recent companion on the TARDIS. "Doctor," he said slowly. "Where's Donna?"

The Doctor didn't move, just bowed his head slightly, but not before Jack caught a glimpse of the moisture gathering in the Time Lord's eyes. He asked again, "Doctor, where is she?" Seeing a tear escape and glide slowly down the Doctor's cheek, Jack's heart sank. "Oh, gods," he breathed. "What have you done?"

The Doctor raised his head and looked at him, his face a mask of grief and pain. "She's gone, Jack."

"Gone? As in left to visit family? Or gone, as in … dead?" Jack was afraid he already knew the answer.

"Her body's still alive, if that's what you're asking. But her mind…."Another tear fell. "It was the Metacrisis. The Time Lord consciousness would have caused her brain to burn. I …" He stopped and choked back a sob. "I had to wipe her mind. She begged me not to, but I couldn't let her die. She doesn't remember me … and I can't forget her."

If the Doctor was counting on sympathy from Jack, he was sadly disappointed. Jack exploded at the broken alien. "Is that what this is all about?!" he shouted. "Your guilt over Donna? You can't live with yourself so you're ready to end it all? I thought Time Lords didn't believe in suicide," he sneered.

That got his attention. "I'm not suicidal!" the Doctor snapped. "I'm facing reality! I tried going on without her, and I … I went a bit off the rails. The Time Lord Victorious," he quipped, with a bitter laugh. "Oh, what she would have said about that." He smiled to himself. "I didn't set out to die, you know. But now that it's here, I don't see much point in fighting it." He stopped, his shoulders slumping, as if he was carrying a great weight. "I'm tired, Jack."

Jack reached out and drew him into a tight hug. "We'll get through this, you and I. Let's take care of this pesky regenerative energy and we'll worry about the rest later."

The Doctor disentangled himself. "There's nothing I can do. I've left it too long."

"Do what you did when you got shot. You healed yourself and got rid of the excess," Jack suggested.

"I can't. I had a matching bio-receptacle the last time. I can't just shoot regenerative energy into the ethers."

"You've got me," Jack said simply.

The Doctor stared at him. "What are you saying? Are you volunteering to take the excess?" Seeing the Captain nod, he took several steps backward. "I said _matching _bio-receptacle, not just convenient host! It'll kill you, Jack!"

Jack chuckled. "Somehow, I doubt that. But even if it did, it's a sacrifice I'd be more than willing to make." He crossed the room and stood in front of the Doctor. "I don't want to live forever, Doctor. If taking in this energy will save your life, even if it shortens or ends mine, I'm fine with that."

The Doctor, in spite of himself, understood Jack's feelings. Immortality was a curse, a great burden. Still, he felt compelled to protest. "You don't even know it will work. I may not be able to divert it to you. You're not a Time Lord. You're not even Gallifreyan."

"Ah," Jack retorted. "But I am Boe-Kind. And we both know, despite the protestations of the stuffy sods in the Citadel, we share an ancestry. Besides, my cells are saturated with the Vortex. The Bad Wolf did that to me. If that doesn't make me the perfect receptacle for Time Lord energy, I don't know what would." He took the Doctor's hand, which was at once icy cold and burning hot. "The TARDIS agrees with me. If you won't listen to me, listen to Her."

Suddenly, the Doctor's muddled mind was flooded with the song of the TARDIS, soothing him and bringing a clarity he hadn't had since Dårlig Ulv Stranden. He could see now that he had been shutting Her out, avoiding contact, isolating himself. As She sang to him, he began to perceive all the little details and nuances he hadn't noticed in his grief and fear. For the first time, he felt a spark of hope dawning in his dismal life.

Jack watched as emotion after emotion danced across the Doctor's face. He smiled as he sensed the TARDIS and stood, patiently waiting, until the Doctor turned and smiled at him, his eyes aglow. But this time, the glow was only partially a reflection of the regenerative energy swirling inside him. He radiated joy and excitement…and life.

The Doctor approached Jack and put his hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what I would have done without you, old friend." He chuckled. "Yes, I do. I would have died. I still may, but at least we're going out with a fight. I owe you one, Captain."

"Damn straight, you do." Jack smirked and threw his arms around him, holding on tightly. "See you in hell, Doc!"

The Doctor laughed heartily as he recognized the words from another probable-death situation from their shared past. His smile fading to solemnity, he leaned in and placed his lips on Jack's, and the two began to glow in earnest. Just before he blacked out, Jack heard the Doctor's voice in his head: _**'Allons-y!'**_

_**Lying in my bed, I hear the clock tick, and think of you.**_

_**Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new.**_

_**Flashbacks. Warm Nights. Almost left behind.**_

_**Suitcases of memories, time after….**_

Donna Noble lay alone in the dark of her old bedroom. Stretched on the top of the bedclothes, fully dressed, she thought about the direction her life had taken. Someone observing from the outside would see woman who seemed to have everything she could want. She had a decent job, nothing special, a moderate but steady income. A wedding was in the offing, something she had dreamed of since she was a child. A relationship with her mother that was no longer based on disappointment and recriminations.

'_Sounds like a perfect life, when you lay it out like that,'_ she thought. But everything inside her cried out that the life she was living was wrong somehow, that there was something else she should be doing. _'I really should go home_,' she thought bitterly. But she wasn't at all prepared to face her fiancé and his annoyingly cheerful optimism.

She cared for Shaun, she really did. He was a sweet man, a bit of a dreamer, but he loved her for all her faults. He had put up with so much from her in the past months. It wasn't easy living with a woman who had memory lapses. The constant migraines made her irritable and unfocused and just plain miserable to be around. And he had stayed. Despite it all, despite the anger and the pain and the emotional distance, he stayed. '_And he deserves better,'_ she acknowledged, as she stared at the small, simple diamond on her left ring finger.

She had returned to temping not soon after recovering - if you could call it that - from her _'accident'_. (No one would tell her what exactly had happened, just that she had suffered a trauma.) That had made it a little difficult to find work at first, having a two-year gap in her memories and no work history in all that time. But Donna soon discovered that she had skills she never realized she possessed. Maths came to her much more easily that she remembered, and scientific jargon wasn't the incomprehensible jumble that it used to be.

This led her to become even more of an asset to the agency than she had been before. She was now sent to technology firms and medical offices that needed more highly skilled and knowledgeable assistants. In addition to secretarial duties, she was starting to be included in more technical meeting, taking notes and writing reports. It made her feel useful and productive.

It was at one of these firms that she met Shaun. He was working – briefly – as a bike courier and was delivering a packet of documents to the department in which she was working. He had needed directions to the correct office, and she offered to take him up. They struck up a conversation in the lift, and on the way out, he invited her out for a coffee. He was polite and interesting, full of grand scheme and ideas, and he charmed her.

She knew she wasn't _in love_; she didn't really believe in that nonsense. But gradually she came to enjoy the companionship and, eventually, when he proposed, she realized that she would probably not find anyone else who would treat her so well. So she accepted, and decided to be content having a best friend as a husband. Only, she just couldn't bring herself to set a date.

The most surprising aftereffect of her _'accident'_ was the turn her relationship with her mother had taken. She and Sylvia had always had a touchy connection at best, contentious and bitter at worst. Since her memory loss, her mother had developed a softer side where she was concerned. She was less critical and more supportive. It was as though she got the scare of her life when Donna was injured, and was determined to make up for her poor treatment of her only child.

It made Donna a little uncomfortable at first, if she were honest. She had gotten used to the disapproval and the caustic remarks. This kinder Sylvia was almost a stranger. It was eerie, almost unnatural. Donna had the strangest feeling that Sylvia was holding back, consciously avoiding anything that could potentially upset her daughter. While the lack of discord between them was welcome, she couldn't shake the feeling that her mother was hiding something very important behind her cheerful support.

It was the change in her relationship with her grandfather that disturbed her the most. He seemed to walk on eggshells around her, avoiding topics of conversation that they had both enjoyed in the past. And he seemed reluctant to go _'up the hill'_ when she was around. That was what she missed the most, sitting out in the cold night air, staring at the stars and talking about all manner of wonderful and impossible things. Maybe she was just afraid the alteration in his behaviour was due to advancing age. She didn't know what she'd do if – when – she lost him.

Thinking about the stars made her even more restless. Growling to herself in frustration, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She knew she wasn't going to get any quality sleep tonight, much like many other nights recently. And even if she did, she knew she would dream. She was tired of dreaming.

She walked over to the window and drew the curtains back. Looking out, she saw the faint twinkle of the tiny lights in the sky, and smiled a bittersweet smile. She knew he was out there. And as much as she missed him, she knew it was better this way. She just hoped he was happy.

_**Sometimes you picture me; I'm walking too far ahead.**_

_**You're calling to me; I can't hear what you've said.**_

_**Then you say, "Go slow." I fall behind.**_

_**The second hand unwinds.**_

The Doctor was the first to rouse from the post-regeneration stupor. He moved slowly, his limbs sluggish, his mind foggy. He looked around the control room, not exactly clear how he had ended up on the grating. He was in the TARDIS, that much was clear, but how long he had been unconscious was not so. The last time he regenerated, he had suffered terribly from Regeneration Sickness and was in the coma-like healing sleep for at least a day. And that event, although unexpected, wasn't nearly the trauma that this one would have been, given how long he had held it inside, putting it off until he had completed his goodbyes.

He sat up and tried to orient himself. He felt different, but not the way he usually felt after the ordeal of completely changing his form. The first thing he noticed is that his trousers still fit. That was odd. Usually they were too long or too short, constricting or exceedingly baggy. It seemed that, whatever his new shape, it was relatively close in size to his previous self.

He raised his hands to rub his eyes, and was startled to see the shape of his fingers had remained unchanged. He surged to his feet and touched his face, feeling familiar contours. He ran his hands through his hair, laughing in delight at the length and texture as it ran though his fingers. He brushed his tongue over his teeth, and laughed even louder. Racing over to the console, he grabbed the monitor, gazing at the muted reflection in the screen.

He hadn't changed! He was the same Time Lord he was before the regeneration!

Something niggled in his mind. This never happens. He had _always_ changed before. There was something he was missing. Something vital, crucial. Something he should not have forgotten. He had started to pace but stopped, drawing on his inner Time senses. He stood perfectly still in front of the console, eyes closed, breathing deeply to centre himself and seek out with his mind that tiny bit of information he was lacking.

As he searched his mind and reached out into the cellular structure of his body, he came suddenly to the realization that the reason he hadn't changed was _he hadn't regenerated at all!_ This revelation shook him to his core. He remembered - with no small amount of sadness - saving Wilfred Mott, absorbing enough radiation to decimate a small planet. He remembered wanting to see all those people closest to him one last time. He remembered whacking the Sontaran that threatened Martha and Mickey with the mallet from the TARDIS. He remembered pulling Luke out of the way of a lorry, and the look on Sarah Jane's face, a look of understanding and regret. He distinctly remembered the bar where he had asked the barman to slip Jack the note about Alonso.

He stopped short.

Jack.

Jack came after him. Jack wouldn't let it be. Jack offered ….. '_Oh, Rassilon!'_ he thought, and scanned the Control Room frantically. Finally, he spotted a pair of brown work and a heavy blue overcoat. The figure beneath was still, unnaturally still. The Doctor ran over and turned the body over, his breath catching as he observed the cloudy, unseeing eyes and the ashen skin of the man's face.

Pulling his friend to his chest, he cried, "Oh gods, Jack. Don't do this to me," echoing the Captain's earlier words. He bent down, raised the fallen man in his arms and headed to the infirmary. After lying him on an examination bed, he ran a quick scan, but found exactly what he expected: nothing, No signs of life, not even a hint of a heartbeat or lingering warmth. He sighed heavily and turned away from the still form.

He stood in the doorway, strangely reluctant to leave. Changing his mind, he moved to the armchair that the TARDIS provided and sat down wearily, studying the still form. Why had he let Jack persuade him? He had been ready to die. It was his destiny, after all, his punishment for his sins. _'For Donna,'_ he thought with a catch in his breathing.

He didn't know how long he was sat there. He had allowed himself to wallow in grief and regret, his loneliness weighing heavily on his chest. So he didn't notice the first tiny gimmer of golden light escaping from between Jack's lips. He was violently startled from his thoughts by a loud, long gasp. Scrambling up, he stumbled over to the examination table and grasped Jack by the shoulders as he struggled to regain his breath.

Jack drew air deeper into his lungs and, with each exhale, a puff of gold particles was expelled and drifted in the still air. After a few moments, the Doctor helped him to sit up. Jack took one more deep breath and released a small cloud of gold. Looking over at the Time Lord, he grinned and exclaimed, "Whoa! What a rush! How long was I out this time?"

The Doctor felt relief wash over him. Jack was alive. He had somehow withstood Time Lord regenerative energy and seemed none the worse for wear. "Twelve hours, forty-six minutes and eighteen seconds," he answered automatically. "I was afraid…" He caught himself, not wanting to reveal his feelings. Reaching for the remote scanner, he ran it quickly over Jack's torso, front and back. He stared at the readouts, shaking his head incredulously.

"See anything you like there, Doctor?" Jack asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

The Doctor did not respond. He gazed at the screen, trying to reconcile his assumptions to the reality of what he was seeing. _'That's impossible,'_ he thought, stunned and comforted at the same time. _'He should be dead. But I can't see any change to his cellular structure. No alteration to his neurological system. There should be __**something!**__'_

He shook his head and turned away, not wanting Jack to see the emotions playing across his expressive face. He was surprised at how thankful he was for this development, not just because _he_ survived without regenerating, but that Jack was truly unharmed. _'He's a better friend than I deserve. How could I ever have thought him __**wrong**__. I've misjudged him. I should have treated him better. He's one of the few…no, the __**only one**__…who can truly understand this life.'_

Jack's voice cut into the Doctor's musings. "Aw, Doc. I didn't know you cared."

With a start, the Doctor turned back to the man behind him. "What?!"

'_You may want to tighten up your shields a bit,'_ he heard in his mind.

Staring at Jack, he repeated, _'WHAT?! How?!'_

'_I'm not sure myself,'_ Jack 'replied'. _'When I woke up, I had you in my head.' _ He raised a hand toward the Doctor. _ 'I __**did**__try not to peek, before you say anything. But you are a hell of a broadcaster when you're not paying attention.'_

Immediately, he felt the Doctor's mental barriers go up with a resounding _**'clang'**_ and he grinned. Standing, he wobbled a little, and the Doctor shot out a hand to steady him. Straightening himself, he put a hand over the one that held his arm. "My friend," he said with a sincere smile, "I need a cup of coffee and a sandwich. Deflecting a regeneration is hungry work. Then we'll sit down and figure out how to save your Donna and restore her memories." Seeing equal amounts of amazement and scepticism on the Doctor's face, he winked and added, "Don't worry. Idris and I have a few ideas."

_**If you're lost, you can look and you will find me**_

_**Time after time.**_

_**If you fall, I will catch you. I will be waiting**_

_**Time after time.**_

Sylvia Noble was stood at the counter in her immaculate kitchen, staring at the carrots she had just chopped, without realizing it. She was amazed she hadn't sliced off a finger, as distracted as she was. She set the knife down before she managed to do herself an injury.

She looked furtively over her shoulder at the older man hunched down in a chair at the kitchen table, pretending to peruse the star charts he had spread out before him. They had had another of their all-too-frequent rows, conducted in hushed tones and whispered, contained anger. The arguments were always on the same subject.

Donna.

'_I just want to see her settled, safe. Shaun's a good man. He'll take good care of her. She needs stability in her life now,' _was Sylvia's unchanging view.

But Wilfred Mott, a simple man but wise, thought his daughter was pushing Donna too fast into marriage. _'She just makin' do,'_ he argued. _'She deserves better'n that.'_

And Sylvia always sneered and replied, _'You think she was better off with __**him**__, I suppose.'_ She never called the Doctor by name, just _**him**_._ ' It's his fault, all of this. He swoops in, carries her away, ruins her, and then dumps her back here like last week's rubbish.'_

Wilf sighed, having heard the sentiments before. _'That's a bit harsh. He said she'd burn otherwise. He saved 'er. He saved __**all**__ of us. You have to admit that.' _ Then he would whisper to himself, _'She __**was**__ better with him._

And so they would go, round and round like this, sniping and quarrelling, but always putting on a brave, cheerful front whenever Donna was around. They were at another impasse, father once again trying to convince daughter to leave things be.

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Sylvia hated being at odds with her father, but she honestly felt that Donna needed to be in a safe environment, away from the possibility of aliens and planets in the sky and any of that nonsense. She was about to start in again, when there was a sharp series of knocks on the front door.

Wiping her hands on a tea towel, she turned to her father and said sharply, "I swear, Dad. If that girl has lost her keys again, I will hang them around her neck like I did when she was seven!" She strode across the kitchen and into the hall, muttering to herself.

Wilf followed, wanting to be there to run interference between the two hard-headed women, if needs be. He almost ran into the back of Sylvia, who had come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the hall. She had stopped short of the front door when she realized that the silhouette framed in the frosted glass was not the ginger halo she expected. Rather, it seemed to be a dark-haired man in a long coat, who raised his hand and rapped once again.

She squared her shoulders and walked to the front door, opening it cautiously. "Yes?" she inquired cautiously.

The man beamed a great smile. "Mrs Noble, Captain Jack Harkness …" He put out his hand but stopped when he saw her brow furrow and her jaw clench.

Sylvia immediately tensed, as a wave of familiarity hit her. She had heard that voice before, and it didn't bring with it a warm-and-fuzzy feeling. Narrowing her eyes further, she demanded, "Do I know you?"

Wilf, who had followed Sylvia to the door, finally got a look at the stranger. "Oi!" he cried out. "I know 'im! 'e was that bloke on the sub net thingy on the computer!" He turned to Sylvia, excited to make the connection. "You remember, Syl. When all them planets were in the sky."

Sylvia drew in a sharp breath. "You were with _**him**_!" she snarled.

Jack was astounded at the venom that dripped from that single word. He was starting to have serious doubts about the wisdom of the plan he and the Doctor had formulated. Deciding that truth was the better road, he nodded. "Yes," he stated simply. "I was with the Children of Earth who helped the Doctor that day."

Expecting a denial, Sylvia was surprised at the sincerity she heard in the Captain's words. Still suspicious, she asked, "Well, what do you want? Did _**he**_ send you?"

Weighing his words carefully, Jack replied, "Mrs Noble, I will answer all of your questions to the best of my ability. But," he paused to look around surreptitiously, "could we please talk inside? I'm not sure if you want the whole neighbourhood to hear what I have to say."

Sylvia glanced up and noticed movement behind the curtains in Mrs Ellerby's front window. Recognizing the prudence of his words, she stepped back slightly and opened the door. "Alright, Captain," she conceded. "I'll give you five minutes. Make the best of it." She strode past her father without a glance and stood at the entryway to the lounge, her face stern and her arms crossed.

As Jack entered the hall, Wilf touched his arm. "Don't let 'er bark fool ya, son," he whispered. "She's just scared, is all. It's been hard on 'er."

Jack smiled down at the old man. "No worries, Mr Mott," he responded softly. "It's been hard on _**all**_ of us."

"Are you coming, Captain?" Sylvia's voice cut through their exchange.

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied, and quickly moved into the lounge.

Sylvia and Wilf settled themselves on the settee to the left and Jack took the right. It gave her a sense of déjà vu. This arrangement was an exact mirror to the last time she had seen the Doctor, the night he brought Donna home with her memory erased. She had a feeling of great foreboding. Giving Jack a glare, she said shortly, "Well?"

Jack had never been one to balk at dangerous or difficult situations, but he was very uncomfortable caught by the steel-eyed gaze of the formidable woman before him. Letting out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he sat up straight and addressed her.

"Mrs Noble, you are right. I am here on behalf of the Doctor. Please! Hear me out before you make any judgments!' he quickly implored, before Sylvia could protest. "This _**is**_ about Donna, as I'm sure you suspected." He leaned forward to get closer to the two on the other settee. "We think we've found a way to restore her memories."

Wilf let out a whoop of joy. Sylvia, on the other hand, grew even sterner and more angry. "So he's come back to fix everything, has he? Well, you can tell him for me that everything is just fine. Donna is fine. She's got a job and a flat, and…" she paused for effect. "She's getting married, so _**he**_ needn't bother about her anymore." She crossed her arms and sat back, pleased with herself when she saw the brief flash of dismay in Jack's face.

Wilf whipped his head around and exclaimed, "What's the matter with you, Sylvia? Donna's _**not**_ fine. She 'asn't been fine for a long time. She has memory gaps that bother 'er. She walks around like she knows somethin's missing, and she feels lost because of it." Seeing his daughter roll her eyes at him, he stated, "She don't talk to you, you know. Not about stuff that matters. She likes Shaun well enough, but don't love 'im and is only marryin' 'im cos she thinks she oughtta." He sighed. "And she doesn't want to disappoint you."

Turning back to Jack, who had been watching with great interest, Wilf said, "This may be my daughter's house, but I'm still head of this family." He shot Sylvia a look which stopped her from responding. "Tell us what you want to do."

Jack smiled warmly at the older man. "Well, Mr Mott, Mrs Noble. The Doctor and I have been working for a while now, and we think we've found a way to bring back Donna's memories of the last few years."

"You _**think**_?" Sylvia snarled, before Wilf gave her another look.

"We need to get her back on the TARDIS, the Doctor's ship, for the treatment," Jack explained.

"But how can you do that? Didn't 'e say that one glimpse of 'im and she'd burn?" Wilf asked with concern.

Jack smiled and continued, "That's where you both come in. The Doctor's decided that the best thing to do would be to render her unconscious first." He reached into his greatcoat pocket and pulled out a small vial of liquid. "Just put a couple of drops of this in her afternoon tea and then you give us a call. We'll park the TARDIS in the back garden and bring her over."

Sylvia had been holding her tongue, but at this revelation, she exploded. "You want us to _**DRUG**_ her so that man can experiment on her while she's asleep?!"

"Mrs Noble, please. It's not an experiment. We've calculated it very carefully and are confident that it will work. She has to be knocked out at first, or we won't even be able to begin."

"But Donna has no say in the matter," Sylvia shot back. "You'll be meddling with her mind without her permission!"

Wilf put his hand on her shoulder. "Sylvia," he said quietly. "I know Donna would want this. To remember, to be complete. She's driftin', sweet'hart. You know she is. She would know all those wonderful places she's been, all the things she's done."

"And then she'd go back to that...that..._**alien**_ and I'd never see her again!" Sylvia dropped her face into her hands and began to sob.

As Wilf comforted his daughter, Jack came to realize that her animosity toward the Doctor was not because she hated him. She was just afraid of losing her daughter again. The Doctor would have his work cut out for him. He – and ultimately Donna – would have to promise Sylvia she would not be forgotten and abandoned.

"Mrs Noble," he said softly, when Sylvia began to regain her composure. "I'm know you would rather have Donna be whole and aware, if you really thought about it. And I promise you that the Doctor has no intention of taking her anywhere without discussing it fully and completely with her family." He handed her a starched white handkerchief. _'Make a mental note to tell the Doc this!'_ he smirked to himself.

Sylvia wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. Assessing the man across from her carefully, she asked, "What exactly does he intend to do to her? Is it dangerous? Is it painful? Can we be there?"

Relieved that she was coming around, Jack stated, "Once Donna is on the TARDIS…"

He was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and a voice calling out loudly, "Mum? Who left the door unlocked? Blimey! And I thought _**I**_ was forgetful!"

The three people in the lounge jumped to their feet. "She can't see me!" Jack whispered.

"Dad!" Sylvia hissed. "Get her into the kitchen and make sure she can't see the hall. You, Captain, wait here until I'm sure it's clear. Then you will leave as quickly as you can." Seeing him nod, she noticed the sincere concern on his face. Patting him on the arm, she reassured him. "We will finish this conversation later."

Wilf ran out into the hall to intercept his granddaughter. He stopped in front of her, impeding her movements. "Sweet'hart! What are ya doin' here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Donna looked at him quizzically. "There was an all-day meeting for the higher ups and they only needed a skeleton secretarial pool today. Monica said I could go home early, so I thought I'd see if you and Mum wanted to go to The Crown & Anchor for a bite."

"Uh, that sounds lovely. But how about a cuppa first? I'm parched, how about you?" He began to lead her, almost forcefully, toward the kitchen.

Donna laughed and pulled her arm away. "What's gotten into everyone today? First Mum doesn't lock the door, and now you're getting all pushy. Let me just put my things down." She took a couple of steps toward the lounge.

Wilf danced in front of her, trying to block her from moving up the hall to the lounge. You can set 'em on the table. I really think a cup of tea would do you good."

Donna stared at her grandfather, confusion and worry filling her mind. "What is wrong with you, you daft old man?" she asked. "I'll be right there. But now, I'm going to say hello to Mum." And she brushed past him too quickly for him to react.

Donna shook her head as she walked into the lounge. _'He's really starting to lose it, I'm afraid,'_ she thought sadly, as she put her keys into her handbag. "Mum, I think Gramps is …" She stopped short at the sight of the tall, handsome stranger standing in the middle of the room. Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head slightly. "Jack?" she asked, incredulity tinging her voice.

Sylvia and Jack had tensed when Donna strolled casually into the room, both hoping that the memory of Jack Harkness was buried deeply enough that she would not recognize him. Sylvia gasped at Donna's question, and Jack cringed, fearing the worst.

"Donna," he replied with false calm.

Donna laughed. "Still no hugs for the ginger, I see."

"So, you know me?" he asked, watching for any sign of impending fire.

"Of course, I know you, you prawn!" She strode over to him and demanded, "Give over!" and threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace.

Jack returned the hug and thought forcefully, _'DOC! We've got a situation! You need to get over here. Pronto!"_

_**After my picture fades and darkness has turned to grey,**_

_**Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm OK.**_

_**Secrets stolen from deep inside.**_

_**The drum beats out of time.**_

Donna released Jack from her hug and stepped back. "So, Captain Jack Harkness. What are you doing in my Mum's lounge?"

Jack was saved from answering by the noise of the front door rattling, followed by a high-pitched drone and the door banging open. They had barely registered these sounds before the Doctor pelted down the hall and into the room.

"Jack!" he shouted. "What's wrong? Has something happened? Is it Donna? Is she safe?" He whirled around and stopped suddenly when he came face to face with the subject of his frantic inquiries. The colour drained from his cheeks and he stepped back in fright.

"Spaceman?" he heard her murmur.

"D … D ... Donna?" he whispered back.

"You didn't change," she stated in disbelief.

"You haven't burned," he responded, equally shocked.

"But that's not possible!" they both exclaimed.

Jack surveyed the situation and concluded that Donna was not in imminent danger of burning up, and that things had transpired that were beyond his ken. Silently motioning to Sylvia and Wilf - who had hovered in the doorway after the Doctor's entrance - to go into the kitchen, he turned back to his two friends. The Doctor and Donna had not moved, nor had they spoken again. They just stared at each other, neither one understanding what had happened, but both reluctant to be the first to break the uneasy silence.

Jack knew he had to take matters in hand. Literally. He walked over to the silent couple and, taking each one by the hand, to lead them over to the settee. They both started out of their trance at the touch of his hand and followed meekly as he guided them to sit down together.

"I can't even begin to imagine what is going on here," he stated, "but I do know one thing. You two need to talk. Really talk. As in total honesty." He took a few steps toward the door. "We'll be in the kitchen if you need us." Just as he was closing the door, he thought, _'And Doc. Raise your shields, for gods' sakes. I don't think you want an audience for this conversation."_

The Doctor shook his head to clear the sound of Jack's laughter. He looked over at Donna, who was staring at him with the most confused expression. "Doctor?" she asked tentatively.

"Donna," he responded. "I don't understand? How…? When…? Are you…? Can you…?" His mind was so filled with questions and contradictions and impossibilities that he was having trouble putting together a cohesive sentence.

"Slow down there, Time Boy!" Donna exclaimed with a giggle. "Jack's right. We need to talk. But let's take it one question at a time. What do you want to know?"

The Doctor took a deep breath, trying to settle his mind, jumbled as it was. He found himself oddly comforted by the familiar nickname. He was quiet for a few long moments and then asked, "How did you remember and not burn up?"

Donna knew that would be foremost in his mind. She settled back into the corner of the settee and smiled softly at him. "It's a long story, so get comfortable. And don't interrupt!" He gave her a quizzical look but followed her instructions.

"It all started when the Master returned, looking like a drugged-up Harold Saxon. I didn't vote for him, by the way. Just wanted you to know that." She gave him a little smirk, which seemed to relax him a bit. "It was horrible. Everyone was changing except me and I was so scared. I was talking with Gramps and my head started to hurt. It hurt so much. And I started to see things. Davros. The Racnoss Empress. A giant wasp. The High Priestess of the Pyroviles. I didn't know what was happening or why I was seeing those things."

She watched as the Doctor cringed at the mention of the enemies they had faced in the past. "I ran outside. I had to get away. I called Gramps again, and I heard him talking with someone and it scared me even more. Then these Saxon-clones showed up and started walking toward me. They were on all sides. Gramps told to me to run, but they kept coming at me. And my head was getting hotter and hotter. And I was seeing flashes again. The Ood with the red eyes. Dalek Caan. That bloody wasp!"

She stopped and swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "The last thing I saw…was you. Then this gold light shot out of me, from my hands and face and the top of my head. With it came a pulse of psychic energy that knocked out all the clones. That's when I fainted."

The Doctor opened his mouth to ask a question, but Donna raise one finger. Her eyes begged him to be patient and let her tell the story uninterrupted. "They found me on the street, after everyone had been changed back. I was out cold for the longest time. I woke up finally." She looked over at him and smiled fondly.

"It was the sound of the TARDIS that did it. I was so confused at first. I really had no idea what had happened. My mind was swirling and jangling and a right jumbled mess. I even asked if I had missed something, again." She chuckled at the memory, but quickly grew sombre again. "I was out of it for quite a while. Scared my family half to death, I did. I fell back asleep shortly after that, sleeping off and on for several days, like I was in some kind of coma. It was a healing sleep. I know that now. When I finally regained full consciousness, I had all my memories back. And some of yours."

Hearing him gasp, she reached over and took one of his hands in hers. It was the first time since he stormed into the Noble house that they had touched. The feel of her fingers entwined with his was so achingly familiar that he closed his eyes and savoured it. Slowly, he opened them again and gazed into hers. "But why, Donna? If you remembered me, why didn't you come looking for me, call me, something?! Were you so angry at what I had done that you wanted nothing to do with me?"

He eased his hand from hers and hung his head. "I can understand if you are. But you have to believe me. I really thought I had no other choice. I couldn't let you die."

She reached over and raised his chin. "Silly Spaceman. Of course, I'm not angry. I know why you did what you did." She tapped her temple with her other hand. "Let me explain."

She sat back again and sighed. "It took me a while to reconcile all those memories with what my life had become in the time since the Crucible. Once I had sorted through everything and organized it all into a workable package, my first plan of action was to find you. I had done it once before, I could certainly do it again."

She smiled at him as she continued. "I was excited about the possibility of seeing you again, I really was. But one night, as I was coming down the stairs at Mum's house, I overheard Gramps telling her what happened with the Master and the Time Lords, and how you had saved his life by absorbing all that radiation. Well, I knew what that meant now."

Her eyes grew sad. "You would have to regenerate. And I understood the implications. Not just another body and another face, but another personality. Different preferences, different tastes. What would the chances be that this new Time Lord would want a frumpy old ginger temp from Chiswick hanging around? I reckoned after all this time you would have found a more suitable companion."

She dropped her head so that her face was partially shielded by her ginger tresses, and shrugged. "So I didn't let on that I had my memories back. It made life so much simpler for everyone to pretend nothing had changed."

"Oh, Donna!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I was devastated when I brought you back home that day. If there had been any other way, I would have taken it. But I couldn't let you die." He looked away from her and admitted, "It pained me, every single day since then, to realize that you would never know how brilliant and special and important you truly are."

She smiled sadly and gestured toward the Doctor. "And what about you, Spaceman? Did you find someone else to travel with after I was gone?"

"No," he admitted emphatically. "I couldn't. I just couldn't. It was too soon. I stayed in the Vortex for a while, just drifting."

"Moping," Donna said with a knowing smile.

"I was _**NOT**_ moping!" He cried indignantly. "I was _**grieving**_!" Seeing her raise her eyebrows, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Fine, maybe I was moping. A bit. But I just couldn't face another living being. Well, besides the TARDIS. And she wouldn't let me brood for long. So, I travelled on my own. I thought I'd play tourist, see some sights, visit a new planet. _'Walk in the dust,'_ as a very dear friend once told me." He gave Donna a lopsided grin, which cause a slight pink tinge to appear on her cheeks.

He went on. "Seemed like my ship had other plans for me. I ended up back on Earth again, in Victorian England, which was being plagued by Cybermen. Met a man named Jackson Lake, who had an infostamp about me backfire on him, and he actually thought he was me! We fought them together and saved London and found his son. But before we parted, he asked me about my _'bright and shining companions'_, why I didn't travel with them anymore. I told him they break my hearts. And they _were_ broken, my hearts."

Donna could see he was becoming agitated. She laid her hand on his knee, and it seemed to calm him. She kept it there as he continued.

"I had offers. People who wanted to travel with me. Lady Christina, aristocrat jewel thief. Oh, you would have liked her. She was full of sass and attitude. Too bad she was a criminal. But really, I had no desire to have another permanent companion."

He rubbed his hands over his eyes. "Then things went a bit pear-shaped. You were right. I do need someone to stop me."

"Oh, Spaceman," Donna sighed. "What did you do?"

"I went to Mars," he stated with chuckle. "I think it was all those times you kept calling me _'Martian'_. I thought it would be fun to visit Mars, to actually be from Mars, in a way." His face fell. "But I went at the wrong time. I arrived at Bowie Base, the first humans on Mars." He stopped as the memory flooded him with guilt.

"I bolloxed it all up. There was an alien incursion, like there _always_ is," he said with derision. "They were all supposed to die there. It was a fixed point, a _'__**must be'**_! Events in Earth's future depended on that happening! But I was so tired of death and destruction, and losing everyone I cared about!"

He looked over at Donna, and she saw the despair in his eyes. Taking his hand, she instructed softly, "Tell me."

He gripped her hand tightly and dropped his gaze. "The only way to destroy the virus infecting the base was to set off a nuclear device and levelling it and killing everyone on it. I couldn't do it. I think I'd gone a bit mad by then. Adelaide Brooks, she was in charge of the base. She argued with me, much like someone else I know." He smiled a wan smile.

"She reminded me that I had told her they were all supposed to die there and that it had to be, for the good the Earth's future. I told her that yes, there were Laws of Time about these things, but the people in charge of those laws had all died and that just left me. I was the only one left and I finally realised that the Laws of Time were mine, and they would obey me!"

He stopped again when he heard Donna gasp. "I know. I was totally off the rails by then. Adelaide set off the device and I brought the TARDIS and snatched her and the remaining two crew members, without their knowledge and consent, and brought them to Earth. I thought I was so clever, so righteous. I had had an epiphany, you see. I wasn't just a survivor of the Time War, I was the winner! The Time Lord Victorious!"

He lowered his eyes and breathed deeply, exhaling in a ragged sigh. "But she put me right, did old Adelaide. She told me there was no one to stop me. And that I was wrong. Oh, she was wiser that I will ever be." His voice dropped to a whisper. "She killed herself to restore the timelines."

The memory was overwhelming him and Donna could feel him tremble slightly, so she squeezed his hand again, to remind him that he wasn't alone. He looked up at her and saw the concern and comfort in her eyes that he has been sorely missing. He gave her a sad smile and continued.

"I realized that I had gone too far. That was when I saw him, Ood Sigma. I knew that my time was running out. I had been told that my song was ending. Do you remember? When we freed the Ood?" He saw her nod. "Well, I had a feeling that it was time, like it was a punishment for all I had done. I had been summoned by Ood Sigma, but I took my sweet time about getting there. I had a few adventures first. I was still feeling a little cocky."

Donna rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's so unlike you," she commented what a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Oi!" he cried. "I'm telling a story here." She giggled and patted his knee, indicating he should go on. "Cheek," he whispered, amazed at the feeling of delight that filled him at the simple sound of her laughter. He just hoped that she would still be as supportive when she heard the rest.

"The Ood showed me that the Master was returning, and it was part of a bigger design, one that included the Time Lords, those maniacs who I had thought were safely behind a Timelock. Well, they used the Master to bring them, and Gallifrey in fact, to Earth, with the intention of destroying everything. They would become creatures of consciousness alone, free of their bodies, free of time, and cause and effect. They intended that creation itself cease to be. I destroyed the Warp Star that facilitated this and the Master, when he realized that they intended to leave him behind, fought and defeated Rassilon, ultimately sending the Time Lords and Gallifrey back into the Timelock.

"I was still alive. I thought it was over and I had survived! The Ood were wrong!" He clenched his hands and shook his head. "And then I heard it. _'Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock, knock._' Well, you know the rest."

Donna had kept still for much of his tale, but she realized he hadn't answered the most burning question, that of his regeneration, or lack thereof. Moving closer to him, she took his hands in hers. "Yeah, I do know the rest. And I am so grateful to you for saving Gramps like you did. But Doctor." She looked him straight in the eye. "Why are you still _this_ you? Why didn't you regenerate?"

The Doctor was lost in her gaze for a moment, and didn't respond immediately to her question. It wasn't until she smacked him lightly on the arm that he broke out of his reverie. He shook his head and stammered, "Oh. Ah. Yes, well. I haven't gotten to that bit yet, have I? So, after I dropped your grandfather off, I was aware that the regeneration had already started. I had told him, to me, regeneration feels like dying. Everything I am dies, and a new man goes sauntering away. And a part of me hated that idea. A large part of me didn't want this to end."

He gently pulled his hands away, stood up and began to pace. "But another part of me was ready. After everything that had happened, after the Master and the Time Lords and Gallifrey, after losing everything yet again, well, I was just tired. Tired of fighting and losing. Tired of caring and losing those I cared about. I think I just wanted it over, and hoped that the next me would have a better time of it."

He stopped and stared off into space, remembering is final journey. "I held off as long as I could, the two parts of me battling for supremacy. I decided to see those who were closest to me one last time, but at a distance. I didn't trust myself not to break down if we met face-to-face. I saved Martha and Mickey from a Sontaran. They're married, you know." He frowned slightly. "Or they _will_ be. Not too clear on _**when**_ I was at that point."

Donna watched him as he wandered, fascinated as his expressions changed as the talked. She saw his face soften and a small, sad smile form as he said, "I had to go see Sarah Jane, of course. Saved Luke from being run over." Donna could hear the pride in his voice.

"And then I went to see Jack." He laughed at the memory. "Found him in a bar. Not exactly sure where that was. I wanted to do something special for him. He had been through a lot with me, and I was responsible for his … well, anyway. I tried to introduce him to a sweet young man I had met on the Titanic. Alonso. Had the barman slip him a note, introducing him. I thought it was a nice last gesture, to give him a little happiness." He shook his head and smiled. "But Jackie Boy was having none of it."

He sat back down and proceeded to tell her everything about Jack's refusal to let him regenerate and how he risked his own life to his. "As soon as we were both healed completely, we set about trying to devise a way to restore your memories. We've spent the better part of three months searching through my library and databases, and as much of the Torchwood archives as we could locate." He grinned and grabbed her hand, kissing the back quickly. "We should have known that the DoctorDonna would manage all by herself!"

"It looks like the Universe owes the Captain a great debt of gratitude!" Donna remarked, trying to cover her discomfiture at feeling the Doctor's lips on her hand.

"That it does," he chuckled. "We _**all**_ do. Especially me!" He grew serious. "You said it was the _'defence mechanism'_ that triggered your memories to return? Hmmm. That hadn't been a conscious part of the plan at the time. I vaguely remember the TARDIS nudging the thought at me at the last minute. She must have realized that, once triggered, it would burn off the regenerative energy. Clever, clever girl," he said, with praise for his ship. "I'm still not clear on how your brain is managing to contain my memories. We'll have to give you a full onceover when we get back to the TARDIS, of course. I want to make sure there are no surprises."

Donna hastily pulled her hand back. "Doctor," she said seriously. "I can't just run off with you again."

The Doctor heard her words, shocked and dismayed at their import. "What?" he whispered. "But I thought … I mean, well, after …" His breath caught in his throat. "I assumed that, once you remembered me, you'd want to travel with me again. But why would you? I mean, really. After what I did to you, wiping your mind and leaving you. I can understand, really, I can." His eyes implored her to reconsider. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind? I know I don't deserve it, but …"

"DOCTOR!" Donna shouted, trying to get his attention. He stopped speaking abruptly and stared at her. "That's better," she said. "I'm sorry, but I do have a life here, people I care about."

"Ah, yes," he injected. "I forgot about Shaun." He stood up and walked away from the settee.

She bounded over to him and grabbed his arm. "How do you know about Shaun?!"

He blushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, when I came back to look for the Master, your grandfather and his 'Silver Cloak' gang found me." He frowned. "That Minnie really is a menace, you know." Seeing Donna's quizzical look, he continued, "Wilf and I chatted in a café. A rather specific café." He lowered his eyes. "I saw you with Shaun outside. Your grandfather begged me to help you and I tried to explain why I couldn't. I broke down then."

He wiped a bit of moisture from the corner of his eye. "So, you're getting married. That does change things. Wilf says he's a good man, so I suppose that's all right. As long as you're happy ..."

He was prevented from speaking further by Donna's fingers pressing against his lips. "Dumbo. I'm not saying, _**'No'**_. Just _**'Not yet.'**_ I have a few things that need to be sorted, not the least of which is my engagement. And I don't want to scarper without an explanation to my Mum. We're getting along so well these days, I don't want to ruin it. And it wouldn't be fair to her or Gramps to leave without a word."

She stared at him, seeing his relieved but confused expression. "You great big outer space dunce. You really have no idea, do you?" She tapped her temple with her free hand and smiled warmly. "If it's in your head, it's in mine, remember?" When the confusion deepened in his eyes, she sighed.

The Doctor was wary as Donna slowly removed her fingers from his lips. But before he could form a thought, they were replaced by _**her lips**_! That was the last thing he ever imagined she would do. Yes, he had hoped, dreamed, even fanaticised a little. It only took him a second to pull her toward him and become an active participant in the kiss. They broke apart only when Donna swayed a little from lack of oxygen.

Staring down at her, joy and disbelief warring in his head. "Donna?" was all he could say.

Reaching up and touching his cheek, she smiled and replied, "I love you too, Spaceman."

_**If you're lost, you can look and you will find me**_

_**Time after time.**_

_**If you fall, I will catch you. I will be waiting**_

_**Time after time.**_

Sylvia, Wilf and Jack were sat around the kitchen table, nursing another cup of tea. For quite a while, they had heard muffled, indistinct voices from the other room, with the occasional shout – mostly from Donna. But there had been little sound from the lounge in at least a half-hour.

Sylvia spoke up first. "It's too quiet. What do you think has happened?"

Jack turned and answered with a grin. "If we're lucky, they're snogging each other senseless."

"Captain Harkness!" She exclaimed, as Wilf giggled beside her. "Oh, you hush too, Dad." Stepping out into the hall, she stared at the closed door. "Do you really think so? Oh, poor Shaun," she said, realizing the truth of Jack's speculation. She had seen the way the Doctor had looked at her daughter when he had run in earlier. It was like someone finding home after being lost for a long time.

Jack joined her in the hall and tiptoed over to the lounge, opening the door as quietly as he could. He had to stifle the shout of joy that bubbled up inside. The Doctor was sprawled on the settee, his back in the corner, with Donna laying half in his lap. He had both arms wrapped around her waist, holding her close to him. She was sat with her head nestled on his chest, one arm behind his back the other draped across his shoulder, her fingers entwined in the hair at the nape of his neck.

They both were dead asleep.

Gazing at the couple, Sylvia sighed softly. "Well, Dad. I guess there'll be no wedding now."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Mrs Noble. There may just be a slight change of personnel." Leading her back out into the hall, he declared, "You know, I'm hungry. And I don't think a beautiful young woman like yourself should have to slave over a hot stove. How about I take you and Mr Mott here to The Crown & Anchor? On me."

"What about those two?" she asked, motioning to the now-closed lounge door.

"I suspect neither of them have gotten much sleep lately. Let's let them be. We can bring back chips." And with that, Jack, Wilf and Sylvia exited to Noble-Mott home.

Donna didn't open an eye. "Have they gone?" she whispered into the Doctor's chest.

"I'm pretty sure they have." He kissed the top of her ginger tresses. "So, how do you feel about a _'change of personnel'_, Ms Noble?"

"Is that a proposal, Dr Smith?"

He could feel her smile against his chest. "I do believe it is. I'll do the whole _'getting down on one knee'_ bit later, if that's okay with you. I am just too bloody comfortable at the moment."

"You move so much as one inch and I'll have to kill you." She nestled in closer and stroked his nape absently. "I hope Jack makes good on those chips, though."

A moment later, the Doctor _did_ move more than an inch, after receiving a sharp smack on the shoulder. He sat up and exclaimed, "What the hell was _**that**_ for?!"

"'_The Time Lord Victorious'_? Really? You're just lucky I wasn't there, Sunshine." She resumed the gentle stroking of the soft hairs on the back of his neck.

He closed his eyes and eased back into the settee, pulling her in close again. "Love, if you had been there, it would never have happened."

"Quite right, too," she sighed and snuggled up into his chest. "We'll talk about this later. Now, just kiss me, Time Lord."

And so he did.


End file.
